Wednesday, February 24, 2010

I was working at Starbucks today. Naturally, after sucking down a large latte in ten minutes, I had to use the bathroom.

I can't believe I'm about to type this but, if you read this blog you may be familiar with the Starbucks bathroom since I've written about it before. (Really, with everything going on in my life you'd think there'd be more to write about than the Starbuck's bathroom, but I guess not.)

Anyway, it's a single bathroom and to get into it you have to go up to the bar and get a key. So I did, as I have on many other days.

Except today when I went in the bathroom it was, well, kind of apocalyptic. The toilet was stuffed with toilet paper, poo and all manner of bloody horror. So I pivoted on my heel and walked right back out. But here's the kicker. I DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING TO ANYONE. I put the key back on the bar and walked back to my seat. I have no idea why. Maybe I didn't want them to think it was me. Maybe I was still in shock. Maybe I wanted someone else to bear the bad news to those nice boys who have to clean it up. Who knows.

The worst part is, a few minutes later another woman went in there and, being the upstanding and responsible citizen that she is, she promptly alerted the staff. So I sat in my chair and realized now they DEFINATELY think I was the one responsible for all that horror.

It's a really big problem right? I know, my problems aren't as big as whoever had to clean that horror show. That person deserves an extra day off. But I'm not sure I can ever show my face in there again. Which cements my guilt even further (non-guilty people don't run).

Maybe I'll write a letter:

Dear Baristas of Downtown Starbucks,

A) It wasn't me. (I swear!) I have a strict "no pooping in public" rule. And even if it had been me, I would have taken up residence in that bathroom forever rather than have one of you clean it.

B) I'm heartily sorry I'm a freak and left that nastiness for another innocent pair of eyes to discover.

Sincerely,

Steph (aka "grande non-fat latte with two Splendas")

At any rate, any hope of getting work done was shot, so I started gathering my things up to go.

As I packed up, a homeless man came up to me and said, "People watching is my favorite hobby, and you. . .are a very special person."

12 comments:

i desperately had to use the bathroom in a winn-dixie once. probably built in 1985 and hadn't been renovated since. one toilet didn't work. one was filthy. the last one was jammed with toilet paper and the biggest solid turd i'd ever seen (probably the size of your forearm).

as disgusting as it sounds, had i had a cell phone, i probably would have taken a picture of it because nobody would have believed me.

instead i just wanted the hell out so i opened exited the stall to be caught by a father and his small son.

Back in my UF dorm days, I swear there was a competition along these lines. There were some very proud people who just couldn't bear to part with their herculean efforts and/or wanted to share. BTW, there is a very nice Starbucks at the Reitz Union food court with plentiful seating and several nearby, no-key-needed, gender divided, regularly cleaned bathrooms. Parking in the basement garage is ~$5 for all day. But then, what would you have to write about?

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Of all your blogs, of all your comments and blasts from the past..the homeless guy is by far one of the funniest things you have shared on here! I can totally see this happening to you. Thank you for giving me something to laugh at this early in the day.

Now, the other side to this coin is I might be a little freaked out if some homeless person told me that they love people watching and I am a very special person. I would go immediately to the store and buy them out of mace, do not pass go, do not collect $200. I would actually end up doing a little recon on the guy and going back in a day or two to watch them and make sure they aren't stalking me. Not to put any ideas into your head, I'm sure he isn't stalking you.....

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